seems a pity to destroy them."

"Yes; but only let me get a chance. Why, if we were to let these things
get ahead along with the eagles, they'd murder half the young birds and
lambs in the country. Now, Scood, how's it to be?"

Scoodrach grunted, and kicked away the earth in different places, till
he found where there was a good crevice between two pieces of rock,
where, making use of the anchor as if it were a pickaxe, he dug out the
earth till he could force down one fluke close between the stones till
the stock was level, when he gave it a final stamp, and rose up.

"There," he said, "twenty poys could not pull that oot."

"Yes, that will bear, unless it jumps out," said Kenneth. "Look here,
Max, will you go down first?"

"I? Oh no!"

"All right, you shall go down after. Now, mind, you've got to keep your
foot on the grapnel here, so as it can't come out."

"But you surely will not go down, and trust to that?"

"Trust to that, and to you, my lad. So, mind, if you let the anchor
fluke come out, down I shall go to the bottom; and I don't envy you the
job of going to tell The Mackhai."

"Oh, Kenneth!"

"Fact I'm the only boy he has got."

"It is horrible!" panted Max, as Scoodrach advanced to the edge of the
cliff and threw over the coil of rope, standing watching it as it
uncurled rapidly ring by ring, till it hung taut.

Max saw it all in imagination, and the fine dew stood out upon his face
as he pressed his foot with all his might down upon the anchor, and
listened to and gazed at what followed.

"There she is," said Scoodrach. "Will ye gang first, Maister Ken, or
shall I?"

"Oh, I'll go first, Scood. But how about the young birds? what shall I
put them in?"

Scood hesitated for a moment, and then took off his Tam o' Shanter.

"Ye'll joost putt 'em in ta ponnet," he said.

"No, no, that won't do; they'd fall out."

Scood scratched his curly red head.

"Aweel!" he exclaimed; "she's cot a wee bit of string. Ye'll joost tak'
it in yer sporran, and my twa stockings. Putt ane in each, and then tie
'em oop at the tops and hang 'em roond yer neck. Do ye see?"

"That will do capitally, Scood!" cried Kenneth, seizing the socks which
the lad had stripped from his feet and thrusting them in his pocket.
"Good-bye, Max."

"No, no! don't say good-bye! Don't go down!" panted Max, in spite of
himself; and then he stood pressing wildly down on the anchor, for
Kenneth had glided over the side, a